For No One
by SuddenlyImLost
Summary: A Katie/Freddy fic. Both have a past, and both are struggling with their love/hate relationship. First fanfic.
1. I'd Rather Laugh With the Sinners

Freddy Jones was going to be the death of me. I swear to God.

"Katie, psst! Katie!"

I turned slowly and deliberately giving him my best glare while I was at it, "What do you want, Jones?"

"You down for the after school field trip?"

"You mean with Dewey?"

"'Course."

"Geez, Jones, is it really necessary to ask me every five minutes? I told you, I don't know if my mom will let me yet."

"No need to get all touchy about it. Forget your Prozac?" he said grinning.

"Go pop a Ritalin, Freddy," I said turning back around.

"Brown is such a spoil sport," Freddy said to Zack who happened to sit next to him.

So this was what I like to call sophomore Spanish. The teacher, Mrs. Hammel, is strict and boring. To top it off, I sit in front of Zack and Freddy, whom I'm beginning to doubt have any other means for existence besides arguing with me constantly, and behind Summer with her flat out obnoxious know-it-all tone that really makes me want to kill myself. Alright, I'll be honest, when Freddy and I talk we get along pretty well, and Summer can actually be a tolerable person when you talk with her one-on-one, but that, by no means, indicates that I'm willing to go out of my way to speak with her, and that _definitely_ doesn't make either of them any less annoying.

I felt something hit the back of my head and eyed the paper ball that lay to rest on the ground next to me.

I whirled around, "Jones. I am going to kill you. Some of us would like to know more than 'oye como va' in Spanish."

"What more is there to know?"

"Don't even get me started on all the things you're behind on knowing."

"Are we really getting into this?"

"You started it."

"Do you want me to stab you in the throat? Do you want to get pregnant?"

"MISS BROWN! MISTER JONES!" Mrs. Hammel shrieked and I jumped, "Good lord, children. You two see me after class."

My face turned red out of embarrassment and Freddy just looked extremely pissed off. Not at me, I don't think. Freddy just hated authority. It was just something about people thinking they had the right to tell him what to do that irked him. Though I think his issue with authority and his ADHD is what would make him a great rock drummer. I hoped to go places like that too, but bass isn't a very acknowledged or appreciated part of the band.

Anyways the period ended and Freddy and I reported to her desk. She handed us a gum scraper and a mop.

"I don't know what to do with you. All you do is talk, talk, talk. All the time! Give me a break," Mrs. Hammel said in an almost helpless manner. Then her expression hardened into a look of mild satisfaction, "Clean. I expect neither of you to leave until there is not even a piece of gum in this room, and I want to see my face shining in the floors and tables."

This is why I hate having Spanish right before lunch. If it was any other period we wouldn't have to stay after.

I turned to the cause of all my problems, "Well, nice going, Freddy."

"Dibs on mop," he said grinning and I looked at him pointedly.

"Fine," I said grabbing the scraper.

I laid myself down on the floor, moved under a desk, and began scraping gum.

"So…" Freddy started while mopping.

"Yea?"

"I don't know. How's life?" he said. It was a bit awkward that for once we were trying to be nice to each other.

"Good, I learned the Lady Madonna base line. It was actually pretty simple."

"You and your Beatles," he said sighing.

I rolled my eyes. Freddy likes the Beatles just fine and everything, but he feels more masculine if he pays more attention to harder rock bands.

After a moment of silence, he broke it. Freddy hates silences. "So what is it that's so appealing about them anyway?"

"Well, besides them being beautiful and godly?" I asked

"Obviously."

"I don't really know. Something about a small band in Liverpool becoming big is inspiring, and then… I don't really know how to explain it. You see them change throughout their albums and it's like you are there living the rock star experience with them. You go through their moments of sadness, spirituality, their hardships, their questions; it's like you _are_ a Beatle, you know?"

"That's deep, Brown."

I laughed, "Shut up, Freddy."

"Nah, it's cool. I know what you mean. It's like me and Rush. When Neil Peart does a crazy drum solo, it's like I'm there doing it instead. I kind of live through them."

"Rush also has a pretty bad ass bassist, right?"

"Eh, he's alright, I guess. For a bassist. Wouldn't you prefer Paul, though?"

"Ick. Paul is nothing but a pretty face. It sickens me how much fame he gets."

"Isn't your favorite Beatles' song by Paul?" Freddy asked hoping I was contradicting myself. I was stuck wondering how he remembered that.

"That is beside the point. 'For No One' could very well be the best song in history, and just because Paul had a few masterpieces here, there, and everywhere doesn't mean he's anything amazing," I huffed.

"Katie, I know you can't see me from under the table, but I'm rolling my eyes at that lame song reference."

"It makes my life when people actually pick up on them."

"Whatever."

"Oh, gross," I said as I hit a piece of gum with the scraper, "that one's definitely apple."

"Ugh, please tell me a piece didn't fall into your mouth."

"Nah, I just smelled it."

"You smell pieces of… Never mind, I'm not even going to ask."

"Dumbass," I muttered.

There was a silence, and I decided this time I would count the seconds until he broke it. I was betting on three seconds, tops.

_One one-thousand_

This piece of apple gum was being extremely stubborn.

_Two one-thousand_

I wedged the scraper in and tried without luck to use it as a lever.

_Three one-thousand_

I somewhat sat up and repeatedly stabbed it with the scraper.

_Four one-thousand_

Huh. That boy sure is taking a long time.

_Five one-thousand_

Something's wrong.

_Six one-thousand_

Where the hell is Freddy?

_Seven one-thousand_

Something must have happened. My thoughts went on rapid fire. Freddy must have gotten kidnapped or murdered or something.

_Eight one-thousand_

My brain immediately thought of several circumstances where someone could do it without my knowing. Maybe my dad-

"Freddy?!" I called out and even I could hear the worry in my voice.

I heard footsteps then looked to find the feet. From my position under the table, I couldn't see where the noise was coming from. I was freaking out.

"FREDDY!!"

"What do you want?" Freddy suddenly appeared behind me crouched and looking at me like I was crazy.

"Where the hell did you go?" I said, and I couldn't stop shaking.

"Paper towels? Is that alright by you?" he said angrily. He paused and must have taken in my state of mind. "Hey, Brown, are you alright?"

He reached toward me and I flinched away.

"Yea, sorry," I breathed, unable to look at him in the eyes and I was seriously hoping he'd drop it.

He paused and stood up, but not before I saw his eyes narrow in suspicion, "It's alright, I guess."

We went back to cleaning the room and made uncomfortable small talk for the rest of the time. While we were "talking," one thought repeatedly swept through my mind again and again.

_He knows_.


	2. Than Cry With the Saints

Needless to say, I ditched the field trip. It wasn't that I didn't want to go on it; I just couldn't stand Freddy's presence. It was intimidating and uncomfortable. Did he know? Was I just imagining it? Something was different, that much I could tell you, but whether that was caused by me, Freddy, or the combination of the both of us is up for grabs. I needed to think. To sort this out.

I went home, and pretty much barricaded myself inside my room. I took of my shirt and looked at my bruises in the mirror. It was real. I circled them and pressed them only to feel that obnoxious pain that never seemed to cease with me. Yes, it was real. There was nothing else to do. For the most part I wasn't necessarily fond of modern music – my heart lies in the 60's and 70's – but when I'm emo and upset I always throw in this garbage. I sat on my bed and cried while my mix of Blue October, Three Days Grace, and other random bands played itself. CD mixes were my life. I make them for everything; every mood, the best of every genre and era, or anything really. This was my depressed/freak out mix.

I hate my life. I stood up and paced my room, sobbing hysterically all the while. I would never let anyone see me like this. Never. I grabbed a bear I stopped using when I was about five and slammed it repeatedly against my bed. Why did this have to happen to me? Why couldn't I be a normal girl with a happy family? Why is everything so hard? I collapsed and ended up kneeling in front of my bed. I buried my face in my hands and sat there for hours, letting my CD repeat itself until I could physically cry no more.

* * *

I arrived at Horace Green Prep the next morning and walked to English. Freddy was in class already. I could feel his gaze on me, but I refused to meet it. I was going to be strong about this. I sat in my seat and, in desperation; I turned to talk to Summer. Out of surprise, she stared at me a few seconds, but I had her ranting about something unimportant in no time. I'll just feign interest until the teacher –

"Hey! Brown! Where were you yesterday?" Zack asked.

I looked up and saw from the corner of my eye that Freddy was still looking at me, "My mom had stuff for me to do."

"Aw, too bad," he said.

I don't really know when Zack started noticing, let alone talking to, me. I have a feeling he saw how much fun Freddy had annoying me, and decided to get in on it. I gave Zack a sad shrug and turned back to Summer.

The teacher eventually came in, but that did bring an end to the staring. I couldn't concentrate knowing that Freddy was watching me all the while. It even got to the point where the teacher out right said, "I know Katie is pretty, Freddy, but please pay attention to the lesson." I wanted to die. Then it dawned on me. Freddy was probably looking for signs. I deliberately rolled up my sleeves to show off my bare, bruise-less forearms. I looked at them proudly. Then I also decided to look relaxed and slouch a bit. _That's better_, I thought to myself. I was convinced that it would relieve Freddy of any suspicions that he might have.

The bell rang, and I was off to history. Freddy unfortunately caught me in the hall.

"I have to talk to you," he said looking dead ahead instead of at me. I think he was slightly embarrassed. I mean this was Freddy. He was too cool and bad ass to talk. It cramped his style.

"I wish I could, but I have to get to class before I'm late again."

He glared down at me. Yes, down. I had always been taller than him, but in the past two years, he grew to be at least three or four inches taller than me. "Don't play with me, Brown. I'll see you at lunch."

My mouth hung open in shock. He saw right through me. My brain started working again and I composed myself, "I can't at lunch. I have to study with Morrison."

"Good," he said with a hint of a grin on his face, "Me too."

I was stuck now. I walked with him in an uncomfortable silence, which was a weird experience for me because Freddy is always talking. He must have been thinking really hard about something. Which I figured was a bad sign for me.

At last, I escaped from Freddy and went o my classes. I couldn't hide my edginess, and I couldn't focus on anything. I couldn't help thinking about different scenarios that would occur. I was probably sweating a disgusting amount. I didn't get any work done in any of my classes. I was going crazy. I had made a decision, though. I wasn't going to tell Freddy anything. I couldn't trust him, and it wasn't just my trust problems talking. Freddy would tell someone. I know he would.

I jumped as the lunch bell rang, and I ran off to meet Freddy in Morrison's classroom. I was almost positive that I wouldn't come out alive.


	3. Every Rose Has It's Thorn

_Don't think about it,_ I thought to myself as I climbed the stairs to the math room, _Play it off cool._

I don't know what Freddy had planned for me, but I knew for sure that it was going to lead to a lot of personal questions. I had to snap myself out of it. My heart was beating as though I had run a mile race and my stomach felt like it did in an elevator when you finally reach your floor. _Calm down, Katie. It's not as bad as it seems. Freddy knows _something_ is wrong. There's no way he could know what it is though. Just make up something._ I reached the door to the staircase, but paused. I could say my grades were bad and that's what made me stressed all the time, but that wouldn't explain why I flinched at him. I could say that my cousin was visiting and she gets rather violent, but I think Freddy probably found out that I was like this all the time and that wouldn't work. I could say I watch horror movies before I go to bed, so I'm paranoid and always on edge. Yes. Yes, that could work.

I opened the door with complete confidence and was at Mr. Morrison's door before I knew it. I took a deep breath and opened the door. Mr. Morrison was at his desk and looked up from his spectacles to see me walk in and take a seat. As far away from Freddy's desk as possible. I should've known that wouldn't save me from anything.

"Morrison, can Katie and I work together? I'd be out of here a lot faster," Freddy asked.

Mr. Morrison stood up and gathered his things, "Actually, Mr. Jones, that would be preferred. It seems I have forgotten my lunch. You two can help each other out while I find something else to eat. If you get stuck on anything, just skip it, and I'll be back to help in awhile."

"Alright," Freddy said and watched Mr. Morrison leave the room.

He slowly picked up his notebook and math book and walked over to the desk next to me. He dropped him books on the desk, resulting in a loud smack that made me jump, and lazily sat down. _Way to make it obvious. It's alright, though. You can recover. Just be casual._

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I said not looking up from my paper. I was actually pretty proud of how chill my voice was.

I saw him shrug from the corner of my eye and write something on his paper, "The field trip was pretty dope yesterday."

"So I heard."

"Why weren't you on it?"

"My mom decided against it," I said a little too harshly. _Don't look defensive._

"That's what I've heard."

"Then why ask?"

"Because I can tell that's bullshit."

I couldn't think of anything to say, but I knew I had to say something, "I… You… No, it's not."

"Since when does doing chores for your mother make you so crazy?"

"Am I supposed to be excited about it?" I said angrily.

"No, but it shouldn't make you freaking paranoid either."

"I watch horror movies before I go to bed every night. They freak me out," I said casually.

"A likely story."

"When have I ever needed your approval?" I said hotly.

"When you started lying to me."

"I'm not lying."

"You know, arguing with you is much more fun when you're honest."

"Arguing with you is much more fun when you're not trying to psychoanalyze me," I retorted hoping that it would shut him up.

It worked. If only for a few seconds.

He put his pencil down and turned to look at me, "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Don't play dumb, Brown," he said getting angry now.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I have a right to know about your little freak out yesterday."

"So I watched some scary movies and they freaked me out, what's it to you?" I said. Looking back on it, horror movies was a terrible idea.

He looked at me seriously, "I was gone for about ten seconds. You were almost going into shock. Horror movies don't do that to you."

"Maybe I'm a wuss," I said, but my voice was faltering.

"Maybe, if you were the biggest pansy on the fucking planet, and it was dark out, and you _just_ finished watching a movie, and the circumstances were exactly the same as that in the film, it would cause you to react like that."

I looked up at him and tears started forming in my eyes. He was mad at me. I knew it. It irked me for some reason. I _always _mess everything up. My nose was stinging and I couldn't think. I stood up, "You know, Freddy, sometimes you can be a huge asshole."

Freddy stood up too. I then attempted escape, but he grabbed me.

"Let go of me, Freddy. I'm so serious right now, you don't even know."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Katie," he said impatiently.

The tears were coming, "Yes, you are."

"What?"

I wiped my eyes, "Just forget it. Leave me alone, Jones."

"I'm back to Jones now? Katie, if you would just tell me-"

"Freddy?"

"Hmm?"

"I didn't go on the field trip because I couldn't stand being around you," I said honestly.

"You say that like it's something new."

I did a half sniffle, half laugh that sounded horrendous, but I didn't care, "Yea, well there you have it. Satisfied?"

"For now. We're not finished, though."

I smiled sadly, "I know, can we at least change the subject for right now?"

"Yea, I guess. Have a seat."

We talked like civilized people for once. No insults at all. A couple of sadly shaken heads at the other's taste in something, but it was like Freddy was an actual person. Part of me knew, though, that he was only being nice to me because I cried in front of him. It made me feel like a wimp, but I used it to my advantage. Mr. Morrison eventually showed back up with his lunch, but by that time, it was pretty much time to leave. I actually did get some stuff done, and I'd say it was a pretty productive day.

Horace Green prep school just got out, but school just got let in. School of Rock. I carried my bass up to Dewey's apartment and passed the newbies learning to play guitar from Ned. I hooked up my bass and began warming up. After everyone had arrived we began playing another one of Zack's songs, and I felt at home. I was smiling again and rocking out. I stole a glance back at the drummer and we shared a smile. Everything was going to be alright.


	4. After All The Rain, I Will Be The Flame

So Freddy knew that I didn't go on the field trip because of him, and surprisingly, I didn't feel like I sold my soul away. I knew that he was going to continue with further inquiries about perhaps _why_ I didn't go because of him, but that was another day, and right now, I didn't care. I didn't care what the future held, I just wanted to enjoy this period of bliss because I felt as though it would soon end. And that's not foreshadowing, it's what you get when you take an abused kid and give them a moment of peace.

Anyways that's beside the point. I wasn't going to be brought down by this. I wasn't. I was going to carry on with my head held high like nothing happened. Admitting my reason to not attending the field trip would not result in Freddy Jones becoming a part of my life, nor would it result in anyone finding out anything. Now, I know I said that last time, but this time I'm going to be firm.

"Well, if it isn't Brown," Freddy said as I walked into the classroom.

"Well, if it isn't the epitome of stupid," I retorted under my breath. "What do you want, Jones?" I asked louder.

"Late again," he said.

"Punctuality was never my strong point." It really wasn't. I was late to everything. My mother said I never fully understood the concept of 'hurry.'

"We've noticed," he said smirking and the class laughed.

"Oh, shove it, Jones," I said taking my seat.

At that time Ms. Robinson, my English teacher, came in and reprimanded me for my language.

"Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson," Zack said applauding and congratulating her for yelling at me.

"Jesus loves you more than you will know," Freddy said matter-of-factly while crossing his arms.

"God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson," Billy said seriously.

"Heaven holds a place for those who pray," Lawrence finished in his adorable little accent.

I face-palmed at their idiocy. They only do this about once or twice a week. You'd think I'd know when to expect it.

"Alright, alright. Thank you boys, now today we'll be studying the work of Arthur Miller with The Crucible and its relationship to the 1950's…" Ms. Robinson started, but my mind was somewhere else. I just didn't feel like working today. I started to draw the Rolling Stones lips on my desk. Ever since Dewey introduced us to real music, I gave up even trying to be interested in the new stuff. Unless I'm depressed, of course.

I started having my usual fantasy that I'm going to indulge you in, but you're probably gonna think of me as a complete loser. I'm not; I'm just a crazy fan girl. Anyways, somehow I find myself whisked away in the 1950's in Liverpool, England. Yea, you know where this is going, or you should. If you don't, get out of that rock you live under. I'm at the Cavern, and the Beatles are playing before they become really popular. They're completely unruly –smoking, drinking, talking - on stage. Then I notice a certain beautiful guitarist can't keep his eyes off of me. After his set he comes and speaks to me.

"_Hello, I'm George Harrison,"_ he says in the Scouse accent. I swoon and nearly faint.

"_I'm Katie Brown."_

"_What's a posh bird like you doing here?"_

"And what would that be, Katie?" Mrs. Robinson says waking me up from my reverie. The class is quiet and staring at me.

"It-it would," I looked to Freddy; he mouthed something I didn't catch, "be…" Freddy mouthed, "_Hyperbole," _and opened his arms wide. I got the hint and looked back at Robinson.

"Forgive me; what I meant to say was that it would be a hyperbole," I said confidently. She then turned and rattled on about something else.

I looked to Freddy again, and tore out a piece of paper.

_Thanks. I guess I owe you. Since when do you know your literary terms?_

I faked a yawn and stretched up my arms with the crumpled note inside my right hand. On the way down from my yawn, I threw the ball at Freddy. He smirked at how suave I was. He's jealous. I could tell.

The note landed back on my desk and I didn't even notice him throw it or anything. Damn, he was crafty.

_Nice delivery, Brown, _I could almost hear the sarcasm as I read it;_ and please, I could recite more literary terms than you in my sleep._

I rolled my eyes, _Are all men this egotistical, or just you?_

I tried a new technique. This time I threw my pencil over next to his desk. With the hand that wasn't grasping the note; I picked up the pencil and placed the hand with the note on his desk as support. I left the note there and walked off. Freddy was doing his best not to laugh the whole time.

This time I was going to watch Freddy to see how he delivered his note. He walked over with the crumbled up paper.

"I think you dropped this, Brown," he said handing it to me.

I opened it, _Welcome to the real world. And if I were you, I'd be a bit nicer to someone who just saved my ass. _

Stupid Freddy. Always having to be right. I hate it when he's right.

_Fine, but don't expect me to kneel in your presence. _

I walked back over to his seat, "This isn't mine, and it looks like your handwriting."

"Better, Brown," he said referring to my note-passing skills.

The bell rang and we all got up to leave. Freddy reported by my side like he's often been doing lately.

"I think we oughta talk again," he said doing that weird not-looking-at-me thing again.

"About what?" I said looking at the floor, liking this type of talk as much as he did.

"Why."

I stopped walking and turned on him, "Yes, let's. Why, Jones, do you care so much? Why is it impossible for you to leave me alone? Why is my missing one field trip such a big deal to you?"

I don't know why I got so mad. I didn't want him to know. Was that too much to ask?

"Maybe because you're fucking losing it. Maybe because you're starting to fucking lie and throw all this shit on me. Maybe because I'm starting to realize how much you were like this _before _your fucking freak out. And maybe I feel like I should understand what's happening with you before writing you off as a lying bitch!" He struck back with so much venom in his voice, I wanted to cry. I obviously hurt him with that remark.

I looked at the ground, "Sorry, Freddy."

"Whatever though, it's your life, and if it bothers you so much, I'll leave."

"Don't put me in this position," I said quietly.

"What position?"

"Tell you or lose you."

"You won't lose me," he said looking down the hall.

"What?"

"Never mind, I'll see you later, Brown," he said walking away.

"Freddy!"

"What?"

"After school?" I asked not believing what I was saying.

He smirked, "Yea, whatever."


End file.
